


Blackout Weather

by rynling



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:13:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2743955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rynling/pseuds/rynling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Carlos wanders through a transdimensional desert, life continues for Cecil as summer turns to fall in Night Vale. The City Council has scheduled a blackout during his broadcast, and he sees strange and wonderful things in the darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackout Weather

Look down. Beneath your feet, countless organisms squirm and vie for dominance. Your existence means nothing to them as they play out their lives on a stage you were never meant to see. If the darkness above fails to make you feel small and insignificant, then pause to consider the darkness below.

Welcome to Night Vale!

The City Council has announced a blackout of the town's electricity, fission chambers, and whale oil lamps to begin this afternoon. Yesterday, a member of the Council wearing a featureless white mask leaking bright blue fluid suggested by means of the choreographed chittering of crickets that citizens should remain in their homes and under no circumstances attempt to illuminate the dimness with fire, battery-powered torches, or accidental bioluminescence. The blackout is scheduled during my broadcast; but, as diesel-powered generators are not subject to the Council's stipulations, I will remain on the air for as long as I am able. More on this story as it develops.

Listeners, as you know, our beloved town savior and resident scientist Carlos is still lost and wandering within the wastes of a dimension that overlaps onto our own. Ever the intrepid explorer, he reports being fascinated by the rotations of the stars and sands and promises that he is on the cusp of important and exciting scientific discoveries. I should add, listeners, that his calls have become far less frequent, and he hasn't liked or reblogged any of the pictures of Khoshekh I've posted to my account on Tumblr.

An officer from the Sheriff's Secret Police has reported a change in the flight patterns of the helicopters constantly surveying our fair burg. Instead of circling the town proper, all of the helicopters have begun to ambulate around a fixed point out in the desert above the Night Vale Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area. One lone helicopter, hovering directly above the pier, is said to have lowered an oversized hook suspended from a thick steel cable. When I attempted a question concerning what such a hook was intended for, the officer's face became stern, and she rushed away, muttering something that sounded like "may his passing cleanse the world." Listeners are advised to avoid the area, which has been cordoned off with bright green police tape.

Now that school is back is session, our community is once again looking forward to football season. After the unfortunate cataclysm caused by an antediluvian resonance triggered by the halftime performance during the penultimate regular season game of the Night Vale Scorpions against their arch rivals, the Desert Bluffs Vultures, the roster has thinned out, and varsity hopefuls are encouraged to attend the tryouts scheduled this coming weekend. Coach Nazr al-Mujaheed advised, "We will know when we have a good team. We will know... When you show up, you are there, and then we will all... We will all be there. There too will you be."

And now, traffic.

Look in front of you. There is light. There is so much light. The road ahead is a vector pointing straight into the light, which becomes brighter as you travel along it. This endless road stretches into an infinite afterlife, an infinity you cannot begin to comprehend. If all your yesterdays were added together and multiplied, this time would still not equal the blinding light that stretches inexorably before you, illuminating every minute detail of the texture of the hands you spread before you to shield your eyes. Within the light, every second of every waking hour is perfectly clear, free of the haze that allows us to pass through time with our sanity intact. You cannot escape this road, as you cannot escape the afterlife that inevitably comes upon us all. If you feel small within the universe of time that is eternity, then you have not yet begun to comprehend how infinitesimal you truly are. Within the vast reach of the cosmos, the scale of time and distance that governs your waking moments is meaningless. Let there be light! Let there be... _light_. LET THERE BE LIGHT! Motorists should be advised that there will be slight delays on Route 800 near Exit 15, as the glowing arrows along the HOV lanes are scheduled for routine maintenance work.

This has been traffic.

Listeners, I apologize if my voice isn't coming to you clearly, but we seem to be experiencing a brownout here at the station. The studio lights are flickering, and the glowing dials on the recording equipment are blinking even more erratically than normal. The electric whine of the refrigerator and antifreeze vending machine in the staff break room seems to have calmed, and –

What's this? Listeners, I appear to have an incoming call from Carlos. Carlos almost never calls me these days... Oh! I have to take this!

Allow me to cut to a message from our sponsors.

Do you worry about your health? Is your heart as strong as it could be? Are your teeth as white as they could be? Are your nails as sharp as they could be? Every day we wear ourselves down and are worn away by our cares and concerns, which are ever, ever so toxic. Life is suffering. To free yourself from suffering, you must cast away the mundane and become closer to your quintessential nature. Abjure the human; embrace the animal. Run like the animal. Hunt like the animal. Bask in the honeyed delight of warm flesh and hot blood as vital essences are pumped into your waiting mouth by the last frenzied beats of a dying heart. You are no longer human, so it cannot be cannibalism. Subway! Eat Fresh.

I've just gotten off the phone with Carlos. It's nighttime in the desert, and Carlos reports a multitude of eldritch lights circling the lighthouse. He told me that the red beam streaming down the mountain from the clifftop lighthouse – not that mountains exist – has faded below red to a color he cannot describe and should not be able to see. I tried to ask him why he hasn't been active on Tumblr recently, but he was much more concerned about a chiaroscuro on the desert sand cast by floating lights descending to the dunes from the lighthouse. "Cecil, they're so beautiful," he said to me before the call cut off.

There's a strange absence of sound behind me. Let me just turn around and... Listeners, the ceiling squares of fluorescent lighting in the hallway are going out. The square by Station Management's office is out. Now the square by the men's bathroom is out. And now the square by the mail dispensary is out! This is too orderly to be random. The square by the chained doorway is out, and now... The darkness is getting closer to the studio, and it's accompanied by a thick silence and a warm and humid wind... How can I feel the wind through the glass panels of the studio? How can I perceive the silence over the sound of my own voice? Although I've already switched over to diesel power, my recording equipment seems to be malfunctioning. I... What? No! That light can't go off! Listeners, I'm not sure how long I can continue talking to you before even the radio waves are shut down. The darkness is almost here, and it brings with it the briny smell of salt. The light right outside the studio is out! We're running out of time! I have no choice. As I prepare for the darkness to claim me, I must take you now... to the weather.

* * * * *

_The lights on Cecil's instrument panel dimmed immediately after he pushed the button to cue the weather, leaving him in total blackness. The suddenly saline air was clammy against his skin, and he could hear his heart beat in his ears._

_A flickering glow popped into the darkness in front of his face. As his eyes focused, Cecil realized that the soft light was emanating from a strand of dangling tentacles. Shocked, he pushed back his chair, which began to tip over backwards. He grabbed for the table, but his fingers just missed its edge._

_Instead of clattering to the floor, Cecil found himself caught, and two familiar arms circled around him._

_"Carlos?"_

_"Cecil! It's been such a long time! I've missed you so much!"_

_"But Carlos, how did you – "_

_"Shhh, Cecil, I don't know. I just followed the lights, and here I am. I don't think I'm really completely here, and I'm not sure how long I can stay, but look, the jellyfish are electric!"_

_Leaning back against Carlos, Cecil observed what was going on inside the recording studio. A number of luminescent jellyfish hovered in midair, content to lazily flaunt their pearly tendrils, which swayed in an invisible current. The glow of the jellyfish stood out against the stark darkness of the room, and each creature was enveloped in a hazy halo of light._

_"I told you they were beautiful, right?" Carlos whispered._

_Cecil righted his chair and turned to face Carlos, who bent down and caught his lips with a kiss. Carlos's hair reflected the neon hues of the ambient jellyfish suspended within the room. Even as he faded back into another plane of existence, his faintly glowing outline lingered next to Cecil._

* * * * *

If you're listening to the sound of my voice, then you too have survived the blackout. We have all been delivered back to our adequately lighted world, safely coddled by the hum of our modern inventions. We can see once again, and we can now return to the comforting banality of our lives. Despite the allure of our fully powered and sufficiently illuminated lives, perhaps we need the darkness to show us things that could otherwise not be seen. And with that thought, listeners, I now leave you to bravely face the impeding sunset, which is coming earlier with each passing day.

Stay tuned next for a special hour-long documentary program titled "Confessions of a Gleeful Actuary," narrated by the famous actor and producer Lee Marvin.

Good night, Night Vale. Good night.


End file.
